"Very well," said the duke. "Lead on."
He began following the man but then paused, looking back at the assembled group. "You'd best come as well. We'll need your advice."
"Ours?" said Athgar.
"Yes, you're the spell casters. You can give us an idea of what to expect."
"What makes you say that?" asked Natalia.
The duke gave them a puzzled look. "We're fighting Necromancers, remember? Who better than a pair of mages to tell us what to expect?"
"Wouldn't a Ragnarite be better?" suggested Sir Raynald.
"Don't be absurd," said the duke. "Ragnarites don't use magic. Come along, we haven't all day."
He led them towards the stairs, the same place they had been turned aside earlier on. This time, however, the guards parted, allowing them to ascend.
They followed some other knights who made their way into a decent-sized dining room where the table had been removed, leaving an ample open area. On the far wall, someone had pinned a large map, though even Athgar, with his limited knowledge of the area, could see how inaccurate it was.
Master Talivardas entered once everyone else was settled, commanding the room's attention. He took his place by the map, producing a rolled parchment.
"I have here instructions from the grand master," he announced. "It authorizes a new crusade to wipe out the evil that has for so long infested this area." He gazed around the room, locking eyes with several others. Athgar could feel the excitement building as if the entire room was ready to spring into action.
"As to the actual campaign, I shall leave its conduct in the capable hands of Father General Hargild." He nodded to the father general, who now moved front and centre.
"As you know," the man began, "we have received troubling reports of death worshippers to the east. Our mission is to seek out these nests of evil and eradicate them. To that end, we have assembled an army the likes of which has never been seen in this part of the Continent." He paused, drawing everyone in. "I am pleased to announce that as of this morning, our total forces exceed two thousand men."
He waited for the noise to die down. "Now I know what you're thinking: two thousand is small in comparison to some of the armies of the northern states, but here, this close to the wilderness, it is unprecedented. And it's also the largest Holy Army to be raised in more than two centuries."
"Might I ask the breakdown of the army?" said the duke.
The father general smiled. "You certainly may. As you know, this is a Church operation, and to that end, we have assembled more than five hundred Temple Knights. This represents a significant investment from the Church. We have even had to strip away some of our garrisons from nearby cities in order to assemble it. This force will constitute the heavy contingent of our army and will be the sword by which the wrath of the Saints is delivered."
"And the rest?" asked the duke.
"Your auxiliaries will be used to screen the advance of the Temple Knights. Your task, Your Grace, will be to locate the enemy, and then pin them in place so we can bring them to battle. To that end, you will have a multitude of footmen and archers at your command, in addition, of course, to your own knights. We are also marching into extremely rough terrain, forcing us to bring our own supplies. That means you'll have to detail troops to escort them."
"Anything else?" asked the duke.
In answer, the father general turned to the map. "This is the area we are marching into. It mostly consists of dense forests with a few open spaces. Our plan is to strike eastward, rolling up the enemy as we find them."
"Rolling them up?" said the duke.
"Yes, pushing them back. Make no mistake, sooner or later they'll decide to make a stand, and when they do, we shall hammer them!"
There were nods of agreement all around, but Athgar couldn't help thinking the plan was lacking some important details. He was about to say something to Natalia, then reconsidered. If the campaign were to be poorly planned, all the better for the Therengians.
"Now, gentlemen," continued the father general, "return to your men and prepare them. We march in two days."
He turned, following Master Talivardas through the door. Immediately after they left, those in the room erupted into a myriad of discussions.
"Fascinating," said the duke.
"I think it was a little light on details," said Sir Raynald.
"Nonsense. It gives us more leeway."
"What happens now?" asked Athgar.
"Now," said the duke, "I can return home and begin planning. What will you two do?"
"Probably go home and sleep," said Natalia. "All this excitement has made me tired."
They drifted from the room, following in the wake of all the knights. As they descended the stairs, Natalia stopped, grabbing Athgar's forearm.
"There's that man again," she said, pointing. "Do you see him?"
Athgar gazed across the room to see a man of average height, with short brown hair and a scruffy beard, making his way to the exit. Every so often, he would pause and look around as if scanning the crowd for someone.
"Let's follow," said Athgar, "but keep back. We don't want to spook him."
They kept their distance, watching as he left the building, heading out into the streets of Ebenstadt.
"Do you remember who he is?" Athgar asked.
"No, but it's someone from my past. He looks much older than I remember him. Maybe someone from before I went to the Volstrum?"
"It's not Stanislav, is it?"
"Saints, no," she said. "I'd know him in an instant. No, this is someone else." She paused. "Wait, now I remember; his name's Nikolai. Stanislav warned me about him, said he was the man who murdered my mother."
"Oh?"
"Yes, he's a mage hunter who used to work for Stanislav. He attacked us when I was first brought to the Volstrum."
"Then we'd best take care. He's likely not changed. What do you think he's doing here? Looking for mages?"
"Not at the father general's place," said Natalia. "However, he does work for the family."
Ancestors
Autumn 1104 SR
* * *
(In the tongue of the Orcs)
* * *
Kargen awoke to the sun on his face, warming his skin. They had hung there for days, and he could feel the hunger gnawing at his stomach. Looking across at Shaluhk, he saw that she was just stirring. He tried to call out to her, but his voice had left him. When she finally raised her head, they stared into each other's eyes, the wisp of a smile on her face.
"Can you hear me, my love?" asked Shaluhk.
He nodded.
"We must be strong," she said.
Kargen turned his head, looking at their guards, but the Orc hunters paid them no attention. Villagers were going about their business with little thought to the fate of their prisoners.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted movement, but his present situation prevented him from getting a better look. Soft voices were exchanged, and then one of the guards left his post. Kargen suddenly felt a chill; was someone coming to finish the job? Had Zahruhl decided to end them now rather than let them linger?
A younger Orc, no more than eighteen summers, came into view, his face covered in grey mud. He also wore grey cloth, marking him as a master of earth or, considering his age, more likely an apprentice. Walking straight up to the second guard, he spoke in low tones that Kargen couldn't make out, but his words had an immediate effect. The guard nodded, then left his post, leaving the two prisoners alone with the newcomer.
Kargen glanced at Shaluhk. It was clear she had seen the exchange for she, too, was watching with interest as the young Orc drew close. The stranger paused, taking a moment to look Kargen in the eyes, then turn his attention to Shaluhk.
"You are a shamaness," he said.
"I am Shaluhk," she replied, "bondmate to Kargen, Chieftain of the Red Hand."
"I am Urumar, apprentice to Rugg. I have been sent to speak with you."
Shaluhk cast
her eyes around before settling them back on the visitor. "And to do that, you must dismiss the guards?"
Urumar turned to Kargen. "We need your help."
"He can not speak," said Shaluhk, "for his voice is gone. A victim of his thirst."
Urumar hesitated, unsure of what to do, indecision on his face.
"We speak with one voice," said Shaluhk. "Tell him what you wish, and I will answer for him."
Urumar looked around the village, waiting as someone ambled by before continuing. "Some time ago, Voruhn caught the eye of Zahruhl."
"What has this to do with us?"
"Let me finish. Voruhn was little more than an apprentice at the time, learning the ways of a shamaness under the tutelage of Glurdash."
"And where is this Glurdash now?"
"Dead," said Urumar. "Killed in an ambush in the forest. It was blamed on the Torkul at the time, but my master has his doubts."
"And?"
"Since Glurdash's death, Voruhn has become powerful. Much more so than could be expected in so short a time."
"Go on."
"My master, Rugg, believes she has delved into the dark arts."
"How long ago was this?"
"Only a few ten-days ago, just before your first visit here. However, her influence over Zahruhl has grown stronger, to the point where he can no longer think for himself."
"Has her manner changed?"
"Yes," admitted Urumar. "Her former self is barely recognizable."
"It is not the dark arts," declared Shaluhk.
"Then what is it?"
"I believe she has called on the Ancestors to feed her quest for power. She is possessed, and I think I know by whom."
Urumar stared back at her. "Tell me."
"No," Shaluhk replied. "If we are to die here, then that secret will die with us."
The young Orc glanced around one more time, then lifted his hands, cupping them before him as he uttered words of power. The area around them echoed with the sound of splintering wood. Moments later, Shaluhk's frame collapsed, dropping her to the ground. Urumar didn't hesitate, turning his attention to Kargen and repeating the spell.
Shaluhk rose, rubbing her wrists and tugging the loosened bonds free. She rushed forward, catching Kargen right as his wooden frame snapped in two. He fell heavily, leaning into her, then steadied himself. Urumar tossed her a knife, and she made short work of the remaining rope.
"Come," the apprentice said. "We haven't much time. Rugg awaits."
He led them through the village and into a small stone hut. Inside were two Orcs, one of which they recognized as the master of earth.
"This is Gahruhl," said Rugg, "sister to Zahruhl. She is a master of earth, like me."
Urumar selected an earthenware jug, passing it to Kargen, who drank thirstily.
"We haven't much time," said Rugg.
"Shaluhk thinks Voruhn is possessed," said Urumar.
"It would explain much," said Gahruhl. "For she has not been herself for some time."
"Has she ever contacted the Ancestors?" asked Shaluhk.
"I can not say for sure," said Gahruhl, "but it would have been part of her training, would it not?"
"I believe she was swayed by the words of Khurlig," said Shaluhk. "An ancient Ancestor who longs to return to the mortal realm. She tried to possess me back in Ord-Kurgad. Were it not for the intervention of my mentor, I would have succumbed."
"And what makes you think it is her?" asked Rugg.
"The hatred for Kargen and myself. She blames me for preventing her return."
"But why would Voruhn allow such a thing?"
"She likely desired power above all else, and Khurlig's words proved persuasive. No doubt she was convinced the knowledge would be hers to use, but instead, she is now a prisoner, trapped within the realm of spirits."
"How can we be sure?" asked Rugg.
"I can journey to the spirit realm," said Shaluhk. "If Voruhn is trapped there, I can find her."
"Then you can bring her back?"
"No, to do that I would have to battle Khurlig."
"I have a plan," interrupted Kargen.
"Go on," urged Gahruhl.
"Your tribe will come for me. When they do, I will challenge Zahruhl to trial by combat. You will have to back my claim, Rugg, or else Shaluhk and I will find ourselves at the mercy of the elements once more."
"I will do as you ask."
"By tradition, the fight will be in several days. It is important that this is enforced, for I must have time to recover. Zahruhl is a great warrior, and I can not defeat him as I am now."
"You can not kill my brother," said Gahruhl.
"Nor do I wish to, for my fight with him is only a diversion."
"For what?" said Rugg.
In answer, Kargen turned to Shaluhk.
She smiled. "While the fight is underway, everyone's attention will be on the combat. I shall use the opportunity to attack the spirit of Khurlig."
"She is powerful," warned Kargen. "Are you sure you are up to it?"
"It will take a lot of attention to control Zahruhl, particularly if he is fighting. She will be weakened."
"Assuming this Khurlig is indeed the cause of the problem," said Rugg.
"We shall know soon enough," said Shaluhk, "for I can consult the Ancestors once I have regained my strength. They will know if Khurlig still treads the spirit realm."
"How is it," said Urumar, "you are untouched by your ordeal when your bondmate is so weakened?"
"You forget," said Shaluhk, "I am a shamaness. I placed myself into a healing trance."
"I did not know you could do that?" said Kargen.
"Nor did I until the need was there."
A yell outside drew their attention.
"It appears your absence has been discovered," said Rugg. "It is time to put your plan into operation."
They waited patiently, the shouts growing louder as more took up the call. Rugg moved to the door, throwing aside the flap of leather to peer outside. "They are over here," he called out.
Hunters came rushing, pushing their way into the small hut, their spears unusable in the close confines.
"I challenge Zahruhl to trial by combat," said Kargen, his voice booming.
"You are under arrest," said a guard.
"It is his right," said Rugg.
"He is not of this tribe," came the protest.
"True, but he is a chieftain, and all chieftains are considered family."
"He is correct," said Gahruhl, "and as my brother is fond of saying, 'It is not our place to determine their fate. Rather it is that of our Ancestors.' Tell Zahruhl the Ancestors will judge them all in three days."
* * *
"Are you nervous?" asked Shaluhk.
"Yes," admitted Kargen, "but if you tell anyone else, I shall deny it."
"You are a mighty hunter."
"As is he, and he is significantly larger than I am. I also have to prolong the fight to give you time to deal with Khurlig."
"You will win."
"Will I? You seem so confident."
"I know what we do is best for the tribe."
"You are the one facing the unknown," said Kargen. "How can you be so calm?"
"I merely look calm, but inside I am as nervous as you."
"Then let us sit awhile in calm contemplation. It will steady us both."
"I can not, for I still have to contact the Ancestors. There is yet the chance it is not Khurlig we face."
"Very well. I shall stand watch as you cast if it does not disturb you."
"You could never disturb me," she replied, "and your presence is most welcome." She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
Kargen watched her begin her incantation, the words of magic flowing from her lips effortlessly. Moments later, she opened her eyes, seemingly taking in the room around her.
It was clear from his point of view she could see someone with them, and he wondered who. She muttered a word of gre
eting and then cast again, this time at Kargen. He sat still, feeling a slight tingling, and then a ghostly shape took form before his eyes.
"Artoch!" he called out.
"It is I," the old spirit replied. "As I was in life, so I am in death. Tell me, my old friend, does the tribe prosper?"
"In a manner," said Kargen, "but it is Shaluhk who must explain."
The spirit turned to Shaluhk, a smile on his face. "Speak, Shaluhk, for I would hear your words."
"We are in the village of Khasrahk," she said. "Prisoners of their chieftain, Zahruhl."
"Prisoners?" said Artoch. "How can this be? The Orcs of the Stone Crusher Tribe should be friendly."
"We believe," explained Shaluhk, "that their shaman may be possessed by the spirit of Khurlig."
Artoch nodded his head. "She has sought long and hard to return to the realm of the living. Who does she occupy?"
"Voruhn, Shamaness of the Stone Crushers."
"This is terrible news," said Artoch, "for Khurlig is said to have mastered life and death before she passed into the spirit realm."
"If she mastered death, how did she die?" asked Kargen.
"She could bring back the dead, but passed before she could impart the skill to another."
"That is against the most solemn vows of a shaman," said Shaluhk.
"So it is, but Khurlig was driven by a lust for power that could not be satiated. In the end, it was her undoing."
"How did she die?" asked Kargen.
"She was caught attempting to raise an army of the dead."
"But all shamans can call upon the spirits, can they not?"
"This is different," said Artoch. "You can learn to call forth spirit warriors for a short duration, but what she did was Blood Magic, conjuring the dead and binding them to her will for all eternity."
"Do you think she would attempt such a thing here?"
"I am sure of it," said Artoch. "Such magic is powerful, and the dead are fearless."
"How can we defeat her?" asked Shaluhk.
"It will not be easy. You must fight her in spirit form."
"But she occupies the body of Voruhn. How do I compel her to enter the spirit realm?"
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